This dark erotic fiction excerpt comes from one of Michael Forman’s adult psychological novels. Set on a beach at sunset, the scene blends sensuality, manipulation, memory, and Mitchell Felding’s unstable inner world. It is intended for mature readers only.
{excerpt start}
A small white triangle of sail drifted across the horizon as the sky changed from gold to crimson.
“But she gave you up for him? I can’t believe it. I think you’re perfect. I’d never let you go.”
Natasha turned and kissed him.
“My mother must’ve been crazy.”
“We were young,” Mitchell said. “Our relationship had run its course.”
“It doesn’t matter now. I’m lucky to have you.”
Mitchell didn’t agree. He had once loved Nina, but she had also been a liar and a cheat. Any daughter produced by her might carry the same instincts.
He watched the tiny sail and stroked Natasha’s breast. Part of him wished he were aboard that boat, heading somewhere else and escaping the deceitful tendrils of another manipulative woman.
Another part wanted to lay his muse down and let the soft lapping water set the rhythm for a long session of inspiration on the sand.
The remainder went to its usual dark place.
Natasha sighed as his hand slipped beneath her bikini.
Nina and Mitchell had never rushed. They had spent hours stroking each other and making love at every chance.
Making love to her daughter was the same. Natasha moved like Nina and responded to the same things. Mitchell kissed her ear while she stroked him through his swimming trunks.
“You know,” he whispered, “your mother said far too much to you about our sex life.”
“It’s okay, Mitchell. I don’t mind.”
“Well, I do.”
She squeezed the damp patch over the tip of his cock.
“You’re leaking.”
He lifted her bikini top and exposed her pale breast to the air. “You’re hard,” he replied, watching her nipple react.
She looked down at herself. “God, I’m horny. Let’s take this to the boat.”
“Stay here. Here’s fine.”
“No, Mitchell. We’ll get caught.”
“By who? Everyone’s gone home.”
“What about the four-wheel drives?”
“Only at low tide. They can’t get up here now.”
“But it’s still light—”
A wave of pleasure ended her words.
“O-okay,” she acquiesced. “What do you want me to do?”
“Play. Take a peek beneath my shorts.”
She giggled. “I know what’s there.”
“Pretend it’s your first time.”
Natasha rested her head on his chest and lifted the waistband, exposing the shiny tip.
“Oh, my lord. You seem to have something here.”
“Hold it.”
She wrapped her fingers around him and pulled his shorts lower.
“There. It’s out.”
“What do you see?”
“An angry eye looking at me.” She glanced along the empty beach. “Mitchell, your dick is out where everyone can see.”
“Forget everyone. Look at the head.”
“It’s shiny and purple.”
“Draw your thumb upwards.”
She followed his instructions. A clear droplet appeared.
“You’re leaking again.”
“Three slow strokes. Bring it all the way to the top.”
Natasha’s hand moved along his shaft. The liquid gathered and trembled at its tip.
“I’ve never seen so much juice before.”
“That’s because you’ve never milked it.”
She pushed his shorts down.
“Jesus, Mitchell. You haven’t got anything on.”
“Take them off.”
“Aren’t you worried someone might come?”
“No.”
She removed his shorts and tossed them aside.
“Now point me towards the sky.”
Natasha stroked him again, drawing up another clear drop.
“A pearl,” she said. “It’s like a glistening pearl.”
“Put it between you and the yacht.”
She lowered her head until the distant boat appeared within it.
[Mitchell notices everything. The trouble begins when observation turns into control. Enter Mitchell Felding’s world in SEETHINGS.]
“There’s a teeny-tiny upside-down yacht on the end of your penis.”
“Perfect. Take the pearl on your fingertip. Don’t let it fall.”
Natasha lifted it carefully. The sphere passed above Mitchell’s stomach as she turned onto her knees to find the right angle.
“Look.”
“It’s you.”
“It’s you too. We’re both on your finger.”
“That’s amazing. How do you find these things?”
“Observation. You have to be prepared to see everything, including the little pearls in this life.”
“It’s no wonder my mother loved you.”
“Put it on your lips.”
“What?”
“Place it on your lips. Don’t be afraid.”
She hesitated, then touched it to her mouth.
“Now spread it like lip gloss.”
Natasha slowly ran it across her lips.
“Turn sideways. Let me see the shine.”
She turned.
“Perfect.”
Mitchell grabbed her and pulled her down, forcing his tongue deep into her mouth. Her startled squeal disappeared beneath his lips. The slippery kiss continued until she twisted beneath him, quivering and short of breath.
He released her.
Her eyes opened wide. “Far fucking out, Mitchell! What the hell was that?”
She collapsed beside him with one hand pressed to her chest.
“That was—oh, you’re bad. You’re very bad. You’ve never done that before.”
“It’s something I dreamed about.”
“Did you ever do it to my mother?”
“No. That one belongs to you.”
“Thank you.” She caught her breath and smiled. “Do it again.”
Another pearled finger appeared between them.
“Not your lips this time,” Mitchell said. “Put it on your tongue.”
Fully aroused, she didn’t ask questions. Reaching his next move mattered more. They kissed until neither could breathe.
“I think I came,” she whispered.
“Really?”
“Yes. You haven’t even touched me there.”
“There’s only one way to find out. Lie down.”
Mitchell sat up and undid the bows on her bikini bottoms.
“No, Mitchell—”
Before she could stop him, they were off. Natasha covered herself with one hand.
“Aroused lovers express themselves openly,” he said. “They give themselves to the art of lovemaking. Take your hand away. It’s just us.”
She searched the beach. “If I hear anything, I’m taking the dinghy back to the boat.”
“And your top.”
“Can’t I leave it on?”
“No.”
“Oh, my lord. What have I gotten myself into?”
Reluctantly, she reached behind her and loosened the strings.
“Are you happy now?”
“Give it to me.”
Mitchell took the bikini top and tossed it beside her bottoms.
“I’m out here too,” he said, twisting his hips and letting himself swing from side to side.
Natasha laughed. “Oh, my God. That’s so stupid.”
“Show me you’re not afraid. Let’s be creative together.”
“Okay, you madman. Now what?”
“Kiss me.”
“That I can do.”
She gave him a quirky salute and fell into his arms, lips first.
Her mother used to do that.
Salute, yes, but never naked on a beach.
I don’t see the point. You’re wasting this.
I have time.
Stop playing.
This is what I want. Let me be.
Is there a storm coming?
No.
Damn.
“How was that?” Mitchell asked when the kiss ended.
“Bloody fantastic, but I want the pearly version again.”
She grabbed his cock and tugged hard.
“Whoa! I’m not a cow, and you’re not a milkmaid. Slow down.”
“But I want it.” She pulled again, smiling. “Give it to me.”
Mitchell brushed her hand away and pushed her onto her back.
“Lie down.”
“But—”
He raised one finger, and she stopped. Frowning, she found a place beside their footprints.
“Don’t get sand in it. That’s all I ask.”
“I won’t. Close your eyes.”
He knelt between her legs and opened them.
“That’s so rude!”
She lifted her head and tried to bring her thighs together.
“Be quiet. I need to explore the canvas. Everything must be right before my art can flow.”
His voice softened as one finger traced the inside of her leg.
“Look at this scene. The sea. The open sky. A naked woman beside her lover. Her skin is bathed in the last light of the day, surrounded by sand and water. It’s warm. It’s calm. Listen to the sea reaching for us. You know why you’re here. You know you’ll be made love to.”
His finger passed over her clit, and her chest rose.
“I could take you now, but not yet. Hold this.”
He placed her hand around his cock. Her lips parted as her fingers closed.
“Don’t pull. Stroke it lightly.”
He touched her again.
“That’s it.”
“Do you like this?”
A barely audible word came back. “Yes.”
“Do what you did before. This time, I’m taking the pearl.”
Three long strokes drew another clear dome from him. Natasha opened her eyes and watched it emerge.
“It only works if you watch closely,” Mitchell said.
He scooped the glistening droplet onto his finger.
“This is me. I give myself to you.”
Her eyes followed his hand as he moved it between her legs. Separating her labia, he placed the pearl onto her clit.
Natasha shuddered. Her head fell back, her fingers released him, and both arms stretched above her head.
“Feel that? That’s me on you.”
His movements became small and delicate. At any other time, such a touch wouldn’t have been enough, but Mitchell had stretched out her desire and kept her passion at bay. She had become sensitive enough to feel a whispered breath from the other side of the bay.
She shuddered again. Her head rolled from side to side while her arms swept through the sand.
For Mitchell, it was a beautiful experience. Never before had he been free to explore his erotic sexuality. His wife, Sam, had been too icy to permit such discoveries. She said no all the time.
Nina enjoyed sex but preferred a bedroom. If asked, she would have refused to make sand angels on a public beach.
Her daughter had said no too.
Natasha hadn’t wanted to do this, but he had coaxed her into it anyway.
Everything Mitchell’s mother had taught him had turned out backwards. No didn’t mean no after all. It was a yes waiting to be found.
She’d been wrong again.
“Do that again,” Natasha murmured.
She opened her legs farther, arched her back and moaned.
[The seduction is only part of Mitchell’s story. The darkness comes next. Discover it in SEETHINGS.]
Anger burned inside him. Everything he’d done in his life had been done for his mother. The fury usually stayed hidden, but sometimes it rose to the surface.
I don’t see the point.
Don’t bother me. I’m busy.
Take her.
Go away.
Her time is over.
I know. But I have her now.
She won’t last.
I know.
Take her and do it.
No.
She doesn’t care.
I care.
You’re weak. Let me do it.
Mitchell’s finger turned and thrust roughly into Natasha. She yelped and writhed as he forced more of his hand inside her.
See? She doesn’t care.
Stop that.
Just like her mother.
Give me my hand back.
Look at her wriggling.
Stop. It hurts her.
It doesn’t. I’m going to give her more.
No!
His hand came out, and Natasha’s eyes snapped open.
“Yes?” he asked.
She stared at him.
“Never mind. You can keep doing that if you want.”
She smiled, closed her eyes, bit her bottom lip and waited.
See?
I see. I’m not blind.
You think holding back matters?
Mother said it mattered.
Mother doesn’t know.
But I want to please.
You keep pleasing our mother. Get inside her.
“Come here, baby.” Natasha stretched her arms towards him.
You prefer it difficult.
What do you mean?
Torment. You like it.
I do not.
You live for it.
She patted herself and moved her hips. “Put that here. I need you.”
Look at her. She’s ready, and you’re arguing with me.
“What are you waiting for?” she asked.
“Just watching. Appreciating the moment. Look at you, all naked and lovely. This is perfect.”
“Well, this naked woman needs you down here.”
Mitchell stroked himself and moved towards her. He knelt beside her and kissed her mouth.
Natasha pulled him sideways and rolled him on top of her. She guided his cock between her slippery lips.
“I guess you know I came now.”
“Yes.”
“You’re bad, Mitchell. You’re very—mmm, that’s it. Deep.”
The rest of her sentence disappeared as he entered her fully.
His strokes became long and deep. Their bodies moved faster, pressing into the beach as their kisses broke into grunts and squeals. Natasha came twice more. Sweat rolled from Mitchell’s forehead and fell across her chest and stomach.
“We’re going to have to do something about this,” she said between breaths.
“I thought that’s what we were doing.”
“No, the sand. It’s getting into places it shouldn’t.”
Mitchell slowed, then stopped. “Is that what I can feel? Why didn’t you say something?”
“It was okay at first, and I kind of liked it. Now it feels like sandpaper. We’ll have to finish in the boat.”
“Can I ask one thing before you move?”
“Sure.”
“Let me come out slowly.”
He withdrew.
Natasha looked down. “Oh, my God. Look at your thingies.”
Mitchell saw his testicles covered in wet romance and caked sand.
“Fuck.”
Her skin was raw and reddened.
“Come with me. I’ll sort it out.”
Natasha took his hand, and they walked into the shallows. Mitchell lowered her into an area barely knee-deep, supporting the small of her back while he sat on the sandy sea floor.
The last sunlight faded from the water as he gently washed the sand away.
{excerpt end}
This scene is part of a larger psychological story about Mitchell Felding, desire, manipulation, memory, and the darkness hiding beneath ordinary relationships. The full novel follows the consequences of those impulses beyond the beach.
The novel is available for download—and free for a limited time—from here.